Rideau Hall, Tuesday, November 22, 2005

Marie-Éden, her father and I are pleased to welcome you here to Rideau Hall to celebrate children’s literature. Through the stories and illustrations that unfold between their covers, inspiring us to dream, these books transport us to a truly wonderful world where anything is possible and within our grasp. Just the other night, Marie‑Éden said to me, “Look, mom, I’m going into a book.”

That says it all, for to begin a new book is to enter a world where animals speak our language, where we can walk on the moon with Tintin or visit new planets with the Little Prince. I remember that, when I was a child, my father and I would embark on adventures with the Little Prince, for whom “What is essential is invisible to the eye.” I can still remember being fascinated by the drawing of a boa constrictor that had swallowed an elephant. A whole new world had opened up for me through the simple power of words and images.

It is a world of imagination in which children play with such joyous spontaneity that we adults would do well to rediscover from time to time. Childhood stories are among the most poignant. They have the power to teach and entertain at the same time, to take us to the very edge of time and space with the simple turn of a page. And sometimes, they can even change the course of a life. Remembering stories from childhood often means remembering what it was to wonder.

In Haiti, the country where Marie-Éden and I were born, books are rare; libraries, almost nonexistent. The scarcity of books makes them all‑the‑more precious. We would often gather around a book, each word and image transporting us as to a world where we were free to let our imaginations run wild.

In Canada, to be denied access to books and reading is considered a terrible injustice. We have every reason to want our children to have this opportunity. I applaud the efforts of so many groups and individuals working to put an end to illiteracy, investing the time and energy to awaken a love of reading in others, one word at a time. For each new word is a victory. Reading is a wonderful adventure.

I am delighted that a number of students from the Francojeunesse, Bayview, Samuel Genest, and Frank Ryan schools are here with us today. Each of these children will be taking part in workshops this morning, here at Rideau Hall, where they will explore the many facets of book production.

It was Marie-Éden’s wish that you join us today in celebrating the women and men who are so deserving of this year’s Governor General’s Awards for Children’s Literature. Join me now in congratulating Camille Bouchard and Pamela Porter for their respective works, Le ricanement des hyènes and Crazy Man. We also salute Isabelle Arsenault and Rob Gonsalves, who illustrated Le cœur de monsieur Gauguin and Imagine a day, respectively. I have no doubt that, like Marie-Éden and me, you are itching to discover these fascinating stories and marvel at their illustrations.

Books and freedom go hand in hand. Because there is no greater freedom than that offered to us by books. Whether you are at home, in the park, or tucked away in bed, you can open a book and escape to a new world. As you turn each page, you are free to soar high above the trees, battle pirates, befriend the abominable snowman, or change the world with the wave of a magic wand.

Books allow us to dream our dreams in absolute freedom, with no one to stand in our way. This is why Marie-Éden and I love books so much and want you to love them, too. Reading also creates a bond between adults and children, where the line between what is real and what is imagined disappears.

We wish you happy reading and wonderful adventures. And we say, “Bravo!” to all those who create and publish books for all of us to enjoy.

Thank you.